


I Don't Know How To March

by HPOwlLover24



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, At least I'll try, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Marching Band AU, because band nerds are awesome, everyone is a band nerd, everyone is in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPOwlLover24/pseuds/HPOwlLover24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is extremely pumped to finally have the chance to be in the high school's marching band. He practiced all summer and he's determined for them to make it to nationals this year. But his section leader throws him off guard and, suddenly, he's saying he can't march at all. Well, there goes his determination. </p><p>(Based off an au prompt from tumblr submitted to thisismouseface from jeanhorschtein!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I don't know how to march...

Jean made his way up to the boring-looking, brick building that stood away from the high school. The sun was barely peaking over the building, as it was only seven in the morning. But, Jean felt himself wide-awake, full of nerves and excitement.

 

He was finally a freshman, in high school, and joining the marching band was at the top of his list. He had seen the band in action last year at the football games, and he was blown away.

 

Their movements were precise, everyone stepping together on time with the beat. Their horns and drums angled up and to the audience at the perfect degree. There was a perfect balance between the woodwinds and the drumline, the brass and the pit. The notes seemed to just flow forth to create a mesmerizing sound that captivated everyone.

 

So of course, it made sense when they got a one at their marching competition and first at area. Jean remembered the disappointment he felt when they didn’t make it past state.

 

This year will be different, though. He wanted to help ensure that the band this year would make it to nationals this year.

 

Okay, so he was a little ambitious.

 

Jean twirled his drumsticks thoughtfully. He had practiced marching all summer with his uncle, who used to be in the drumline (a snare drum no less!) back in his day. His timing with different tempos were near perfect, his turns were also spot on, and his body was always angled towards the audience. He wouldn’t be the one to cost points at competition.

 

He rapped his drumsticks against his leg. He had high hopes, which was stupid as a freshman and a sophomore, to be a snare this year. Jean knew he shouldn’t wish for anything more than a cymbal player. Maybe he would even be so unlucky as to not even march and be in the pit.

 

Jean frowned. No, he was going to march this year. He _had_ to march this year. He didn’t want to play on the sideline, even if there was nothing wrong with being in the pit. He sighed, no snare until at least junior year…

 

Jean finally made it to the door and frowned. For an art elective, he expected the building to be a little more…spirited. It was the band hall after all.

 

Jean yanked open the door and an explosion of voices met his ears. He walked in and smiled. Now that was more like it.

 

The entire hall looked like a tornado of marching uniforms and sheet music hit it. There were stands and chairs scattered everywhere. And extremely large green, blue, and white banners and posters with the mascot, they were the Eagles, splattered on them. Most of them said, “Go Eagles!” But, there was the occasional “You can’t cage the Eagles!” or “We have the Winning Wings!”

 

Jean looked over to the back of the hall and recognized a familiar baldhead. “Connie!”

 

The trumpet player turned around and walked up to Jean, “Hey, man, ready for camp?”

 

Jean clasped his hand, and they did the handshake/bro hug. Jean smiled widely, “Hell, yeah! I’m so ready for the season to start already.”

 

“How can you be thinking about marching? I’m already ready for lunch!”

 

Jean turned around and saw his other friend, the sax player, Sasha.

 

Jean rolled his eyes, “Hey, Sasha. Didn’t you just eat breakfast?”

 

She gave him a blank look. “So?”

 

“Freshman!”

 

About thirty or so heads turned around to see a short man standing on a chair with a bored expression on his face.

 

He nodded, “Now that I have you little sh-”

 

“Levi,” a tone said warningly.

 

The short guy, Levi, sighed. “Now that I have your attention, introductions should be made. I am Levi, and I am the assistant drum major this year.” He pointed to a tall blonde talking to an old bald man with a large mustache, “That’s Erwin. He’s the head drum major.”

 

Levi looked over everyone and sighed again. “Not much this year, huh?”

 

“Come on, Levi. Be a little more heart warming!”

 

A girl with glasses and her brown hair pulled up pushed Levi off the chair and jumped on. “Hey everyone!” she called out, waving enthusiastically. “I am Hanji, president of the band. I hope you’re ready to have a good time this year.”

 

Levi grunted.

 

Hanji ignored him. “We’re going to split you up with your section leaders in a bit. They will be your go-to man for the rest of the year.” She looked at her list. “So let me introduce them really quick.

 

“Petra over here,” she pointed to a small girl with a wide smile on her face, “Is the flute’s section leader.

 

“Auruo,” a guy standing beside Petra with a smirk, similar to Levi’s, on his face, “Is the clarinet’s leader.

 

“Gunther,” another tall guy with a slight frown set on his lips, “Is the sax leader.

 

“I am the trumpet’s section leader,” Hanji smiled widely, and Jean suddenly felt bad for Connie.

 

She pointed to a dude with slightly narrowed eyes and blonde hair, “This is Mike and he’s with the trombones.

 

“Ness over there,” a guy standing off to the side with a white bandana covering his head, “Will lead the French horns.

 

“Hannes,” a tall blonde, who nodded his head in acknowledgement, “will be in charge of the baritones.”

 

Jean started bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was becoming anxious. Percussion was always announced last, but why the hell was Hanji talking so damn slow?

 

“Kitts,” Hanji prattled on, waving offhandedly to a nervous-looking guy in the back, “Will lead the tubas.

 

“Rico,” Jean perked up. Drumline? A small girl with a bored expression jerked her head. “Will be in charge of the entire pit.”

 

Jean sighed. This is it, his section leader. The asshole that he’ll have to put up with all year…

 

“And finally, Marco, is in charge of drumline.”

 

…is really fucking cute.

 

Jean felt his breath catch at the sight of the freckled boy waving to the group of freshman with a smile spread across his face. He had black hair, which parted in the middle, and wore a simple green t-shirt and black basketball shorts. From what Jean could see, the dude had freckles _everywhere._

 

Jean felt something jab sharply against his ribs, “Shit!”

 

The entire band turned to look at him. Jean ducked his head quickly, face burning red from embarrassment. He turned his head and looked over to see Connie and Sasha trying to muffle their laughter. “What the hell man?” Jean whispered fiercely.

 

Connie looked at him, “You were staring off into space and your face was turning red. I wanted to make sure you were breathing.”

 

“Alright! Meet up with your section leaders now!”

 

Jean grunted, “I’ll see you assholes later.” Jean walked over to Marco, his legs becoming weak. _Come on Jean. You don’t even know Marco yet._

 

Jean stood next to a smaller, black-haired boy with wide green eyes. Marco smiled at the two of them, “Looks like you’re all that we have this year. That’s great, we already have a full drumline.”

 

The green-eyed boy frowned, “What?”

 

Marco looked at him. “What, what? Who are you?” somehow, coming from Marco, the question sounded kind.

 

“I’m Eren,” green eyes answered, “Aren’t you a sophomore?”

 

Jean felt his eyes widen. A sophomore? No way…

 

Marco laughed, a light sound that sent butterflies crashing around in Jean’s stomach. “Yeah, I am. I play the snare.”

 

“That’s amazing!” Jean couldn’t stop himself. A sophomore and he was already section leader and a snare player?

 

Marco rubbed the back of his neck, and Jean noticed his freckled cheeks turn red, “Yeah, I know it’s a little weird, but Pixis said I deserved it so…”

 

Marco shook his head and gave Jean a smile. “And you are…?”

 

Jean mentally slapped himself. Dumbass. “I’m Jean.”

 

“Jean. Well, welcome, you two, to the drumline. I’m sorry to say that you’ll be playing cymbals for the season, or at least until you can march properly.” Marco looked at both of them for a bit, “Can either one of you march?”

 

Eren shook his head, “I was on a cast all summer. Couldn’t practice even if I wanted to.”

 

Marco nodded thoughtfully. His brown eyes landed on Jean. “And you, Jean?”

 

Jean felt his throat tighten. “I don’t know how to march,” he blurted, before he could stop himself.

 

What the actual fuck? He shouldn’t have said that! He should have played it cool, showed off his great marching skills to Marco.

 

Marco smiled softly at him. He looked over his shoulder, “Hey Reiner! Come here!”

 

A tall, buff looking blonde walked over to them, grinning, “What do ya need, Marco?”

 

“Reiner here is one of the best marchers in the drumline. He’s plays bass drum,” he explained to Jean and Eren. Both of them only nodded.

 

Marco smiled and looked back to Reiner, “I need you to teach Eren, here, how to march.” Marco pulled Eren towards Reiner. His green eyes were wide. Jean didn’t blame him. Reiner looked like he could lift six bass drums.

 

Reiner smiled and threw his arm around Eren’s shoulders, playfully, “You got it chief.”

 

Marco nodded and allowed Reiner to talk to Eren. Jean was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, avoiding the Marco’s soft brown eyes. Great, first day of summer camp and he had already made a fool of himself. He’ll probably be forced with someone who was scarier than Reiner.

“Jean.”

 

Jean looked up at Marco. Marco shot him a wide smile, “Don’t worry; Reiner’s one of the best. But, he isn’t _the_ best. I’ll be teaching you how to march.”

 

Jean nodded, holding back the sudden onslaught of excitement he was feeling. Holy shit! Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

 

“Alright band!” Jean turned and saw the tall blonde, Erwin, by the band hall’s doors. “Let’s teach the freshman how to line up properly. We’ll be handing out sets once we get to the practice field.”

 

Marco nudged Jean’s shoulder with his own, and Jean suddenly noticed Marco was half a head taller than him. “Let’s go, you’ll be lining up behind me for a while.”

 

Jean nodded and they joined the entire band outside.


	2. Summer Heat

BEEP. Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP.

 

Jean frowned as he stepped with each _beep_  evenly. The worn out packet of paper had long ago crumbled in his tight grip. His arms stretched out in front of him were aching from the time he’s had them in the air for so long. Sweat was collecting on his upper lip and dripped from his forehead into his eyes, but he refrained from wiping it away. He didn't want to have to start marching the sets over again.

 

The sun was beating down on the entire band. Everyone was soaked in their own sweat and grimacing towards Erwin and Levi, who were conducting with the metronome. The sound of nearly one hundred feet stepping down with each beep could be heard against the practice field dirt. Jean's shins were aching from rolling his feet for the past three straight hours over the uneven field.

 

Everyone came to a halt at once with their papers still held up in front of them.

 

Erwin glanced at Phixis and lowered his arms. Levi followed suit. "At ease."

 

A collective sigh from the entire band was heard. Along with several thumps as freshman, including Jean, fell to the ground.

 

Eren was lying on his face beside Jean. "That was the hardest thing I've ever done."

 

Jean grunted in agreement. He had never gone that long, in the heat, without water, while marching.

 

"It gets easier, don't worry."

 

Jean looked up, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. Marco stood there, along with Reiner, each of them holding a couple of water bottles.

 

Reiner helped Eren up and Marco knelt in front of Jean, passing him a bottle. Jean drank hungrily, gulping the entire bottle in one go. Marco chuckled and handed Jean what was left of his water. Jean downed that also. "It's not good to drink all that water at once, you know," Marco said.

 

Groaning in response, his thirst satiated, Jean fell back on the ground, grimacing at the sky.

 

Without saying anything, Marco grabbed one of Jean's legs and ran the heel of his hand against Jean's shin.

 

Jean smiled slightly at the immediate relief he was feeling. Then his eyes widened and he squeaked in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, sitting up quickly.

 

Marco only smiled and jerked his head in the direction behind him. Jean looked around and noticed every freshman was on the ground with their legs in upperclassman's hands. Jean grunted, feeling a bit put out, "Okay, well, why are you guys doing this?"

 

Marco laughed, "This is what all upperclassman do. It's hard trying to get used to marching, and when we have a long practice for the first time, the freshman are always the ones who feel it the worse. It happens to everyone." Marco went back to rubbing Jean's leg and Jean tried not to feel embarrassed about it. "You all will get used to it soon enough, but right now we're all here to show you the ropes."

 

Jean nodded. He leaned back on his elbows and watched Marco. _Show us the ropes, eh? I wonder if I can get him to talk...._

"So, uh, Marco," Jean cleared his throat as Marco looked at him with large brown eyes. Yeah, there's no way he would lie. "I've heard about some things that happen to freshman when they first get into band..."

 

Marco's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

 

Jean shot him a grin, "You know exactly what I mean. The freshman pranks." It was funny how upperclassman will always feign ignorance. Jean mentally scoffed, hell, he would too. The chance to scare some freshman is always fun.

 

Marco looked around, and Jean did too. There was no one around them, the closest to them were Reiner and Eren, but they were a good three feet away. Reiner was laughing and Eren was looking mildly (to put it lightly) uncomfortable. Jean looked back at Marco, his grin still on his face. Marco sighed. He grabbed Jean's left leg, after gently putting down his right one, and began rubbing again. "Alright, well, we aren't supposed to tell you about them, but there are a few that I can mention to you now."

 

Jean rose an eyebrow, "A few? What about the others then?"

 

There was a faint blush on Marco's cheeks, dusting over his freckles. _Cute..._

"The rest I can tell you when we have our one-on-one individual practices. I shouldn't even tell you, Jean. It ruins all the fun..."

 

Marco looked up at him and Jean gave him one of his rare smiles. "I know, so thanks. I don't like being made fun, hell I'm pretty sure no one does. But, er." Jean was suddenly nervous. Was he seriously laying himself out for Marco to see? He hardly knew his section leader. 

 

Marco smiled lightly, "But?"

 

Jean coughed, attempting to hide his embarrassment. "I have a, um, bad temper. It flares up really quick."

 

Marco gave Jean a wide smile and laughed. The sound was light and carefree. It made Jean grin a little in response. "I doubt that Jean. You don't seem like that kind of guy."

 

To hear Marco say that made Jean's chest swell for some reason. With what, he didn't have time to think about, because a whistle sounded across the field. Jean looked up and noticed that Erwin and Levi were climbing their podiums again. Jean looked back at Marco, who was standing above him, extending his hand out. "Come on Jean, another hour and then it's lunch."

 

Jean grimaced at the thought of another hour of marching, but accepted Marco's hand nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

Band camp isn't as easy as people say it is. Even if it was often made fun of.

 

Their piece wasn't all that difficult, all things considered. It was pretty easy to get down the music, even though there were three pieces to memorize. No, what was going to kill Jean would be the marching. The marching was long, hard, and, sometimes, tedious and it’s a lot more than just walking around a field of grass. The sets were hard to get down alone, not to mention with over one hundred others marching along with him. When he had to hold, his spot had to be precise. His body angle had to be perfect, even if he was only a cymbal player this season. Being on step with over a hundred others wasn't easy either. And, god damn it, curse whoever came up with rolling the feet, his shins were killing him! (Even with Marco rubbing them every other day. Hey! All the other upperclassman were doing it, too!)

 

Jean, along with the other freshman, did get used to the long days of marching. Phixis insisted for long practices because it would allow the band perfect endurance for an eight minute show. The upperclassman, of course, were a lot of help. They often jumped in to save a dehydrated freshman.

 

After marching from dawn to noon, the band hall would be ready for the band with food, glorious heaps of it, all of it made by loving band parents. Lunch was probably the best part of the day because of the one hour break everyone got, and, of course, the fun the band had together. Even though everyone was always exhausted from marching all morning, that one hour was always filled with pranks and games. Jean could always count on some comedy from the trumpets. And, when requested, the drumline would perform a cadence or two, and the dancing began.

 

The band was a little over a hundred people, but Jean already found himself knowing almost everyone's names. He also noticed that, despite the scarce amount of time sections had with each other, everyone were really great friends with each other. Jean had never seen such a close knit group of people.

 

After lunch, mass band rehearsal was held inside the band hall for two hours. This was lead by Phixis, the band director, with the help of Erwin and Levi. It was during this time that the band practiced stand music and memorized their show music. Phixis, who refused to be called mister or sir, was a great band director. He held a good control over the entire band and knew when to joke and when to be serious.

 

Then of course there were sectionals. This wasn't as difficult as it could have been for Jean. Although, it also could have been easier. The people who usually play the cymbals are only assigned to be in pit for marching season. Jean and Eren were only in the show because they lucked out. Phixis wanted cymbals in the show this year to give it more and possibly help them advance to state again.

 

Anyways, this was when they not only practiced the show, but specific pieces in their stand music. And, of course, cadences! That was definitely the best part of drumline, at least that's what Jean thought. But, this was also when they had to bust their asses the hardest. The people in drumline had to memorize just about every piece of music they had. This made it easier for them to play their instruments, where as everyone else could place their music on their arm or instrument so that they could read their music and play.

 

Sectionals gave Jean the chance to get to know his section almost more than he actually cared for, except for Marco that is. The other freshman, Eren, was definitely something else. Just thinking about him made Jean frown and grind his teeth in frustration. The rest of his section was alright though. The base drum players were definitely people you wanted to avoid, they just had an odd sense of humor and a weird vibe always surrounded them. The quads guys were alright, nothing special to report. And the other two snares were mediocre people. Nothing exciting. But, to be honest, Jean was happy with his section. 

_It could be worse,_  he always told himself. _I could be a trumpet player._

Now that section, man, they were on another planet sometimes.

 

What Jean really looked forward to were the one-on-ones he had with Marco. Somewhere amidst the marching and heat, Jean had developed a crush on his section leader. But in his defense, who wouldn't? Marco was an awesome dude. He was really sweet and funny, not to mention he and Jean had a lot in common, besides the age difference that is. And Marco had definitely showed him the ropes, and told him about the pranks even though he shouldn't have.

 

"But why would you tell us that our plume is on backwards? I thought there was no front or back!" Jean had exclaimed to Marco while Marco was straightening his form.

 

Marco walked back into Jean's view and chuckled. Marco tapped his foot against Jean's, and Jean placed his feet side by side. "Of course there's no front or back, it's just a prank for upperclassman to play on harmless freshman who are already nervous enough as it is. Oh, and if anyone ever tells you to wash it, don’t. You really don’t want your plume to get wet. Trust me."

 

Jean frowned, but stayed still as Marco kept looking over his form. Having Marco that close and studying him like that, made Jean...

 

"Well, okay, but why do it then? Did you fall for it? Why don’t you want it to get wet?" Jean fired questions off to quell his nerves. What was wrong with him? It's just a damn crush, and it's just Marco!

 

Behind him, Jean heard Marco laugh. Marco placed a hand on Jean's shoulder and Jean  dropped them. "Because it smells incredibly rotten after. And of course I fell for it! How was I supposed to know otherwise?" Marco came back into Jean's sight and nodded. Jean immediately relaxed. "I'm not as lucky as you, Jean. I didn't have a cheating upperclassman to help me out."

 

Jean smirked up at Marco. "You volunteered remember?"

 

Marco raised an eyebrow, "Oh that's right." A whistle blew behind them. "Well, I guess then I don't have to _volunteer_ information about your pants." Marco turned on his heel and walked away, but not before shooting his own smirk at Jean. Which made the freckled guy seem almost devious.

 

Jean felt his cheeks heat for more than one reason. "Hey wait, what do you mean? What's wrong with my pants?"

 

Jean chased after Marco, following him back into the band hall for mass band practice.

 

And soon, faster than Jean wanted, the last days of band camp began trickling away as did the ending of summer vacation.

 

Despite every complaint he has, Jean really liked marching band. The people were alright, the music was fantastic (again, even if he was just playing the cymbals), and he could feel the excitement that was beginning to build up for the first game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, that ending sounded like an essay to me for some reason. Bleh. Sorry about that horrible ending.
> 
> Lately, I've literally had next to zero amount of free time. I know I said I would have time, but life really doesn't work out the way you want it to, huh? I basically typed this up on my phone or tablet while I was walking to my classes. Lab, chem, and crew have my time right now. And I just realized I haven't updated anything in a month...it cannot have gone by that fast!
> 
> So I'm really sorry about my other fics guys. All of them are in the writing for the next chapter/part/update. I know I should have updated during spring break, but, again, no time. I've just been a busy bee. I also have a bad case of writer's block (can you tell?) but that may be becasue my head is going to explode due to acid/bases and selection processes.
> 
> Anyways, the main point of this chapter was to just express what Jean thought of band camp, and I didn't want it to be super long. These are all based off my own experience, and band camp wasn't always the greatest part of marching season, but I have fond memories of it. Haha, anyone else (where my fellow band nerds at)? And those pranks! Gosh, upperclassman suck! (Just so you know I never pulled them on freshman...I didn't stop them either though haha) Also, a little JeanMarco was thrown in early, but when you spend so much time with each other...well, yup. The next chapter should have more characters and such...but I'm gonna hold off on that until I have time and finish the others...
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading through. I hope this piece didn't turn you off from the story. I hope you are all doing extremely well! Happy reading lovelies!


	3. Right Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Band camp is coming to an end, and the feeling of success is obvious.

The music filled the warm air. The trumpets blaring their syncopated notes. The flutes and clarinets flowing through their melody. The drumline playing their complicated rhythms, keeping the beat for the band.

 

Jean, despite feeling elated, kept a straight face while marching through his part, crashing his cymbals periodically. Eren did the same beside him, but Jean’s wrists were itching.

 

Soon, the band came to a stop, their instruments held in front of their mouths or bodies. All of them huffing, attempting to catch their breaths, but trying not to make a sound with their horns. Sweat rolled down Jean’s cheek, but he didn’t dare wipe at it. For what seemed like the millionth time these last two weeks, Jean didn’t move and tried to ignore the sweat dripping in his eyes.

 

Finally, _finally,_ Erwin and Levi lowered their arms and spoke as one, “At ease.”

 

The entire band relaxed. The silence was short lived though. Soon enough, everyone began cheering, even Levi had a small smile on his face as he glanced at Erwin. They had just completed the entire first part of their three part show successfully. No music. No set sheets. No metronome. Just the band and their drum majors.

 

And to think, it only took two weeks.

 

Jean smiled at Marco as his freckled section leader walked up to him. “You’re showing amazing improvement in marching Jean! It’s like you’ve had it in you all along.”

 

Jean grinned nervously. The pride in Marco’s voice and on his face made him melt, and he would never tell him the truth if he could see that smile. “Yeah, well, I had an awesome teacher.”

 

Marco smiled softly at Jean, Jean could have sworn he saw his red cheeks get a little redder, and Eren laughed beside him. “Sucking up to the section leader, Jean?”

 

“What’s it to you Eren?” Jean growled, glaring at the small boy.

 

Marco put a hand on Jean’s shoulder, immediately calming him. “Come on you two. We just successfully finished the piece. Let’s not argue.”

 

A booming laugh made all three of them turn around. Reiner walked up with Bertholdt and Annie, the other two base drummers, still laughing. “Seriously, Marco, when don’t these two argue?” Around them, some of the members who could hear chuckled. Armin, Sasha and Connie some of the few as they made their way across the grassy field to the drumline.

 

Jean scoffed and twirled his cymbals unconsciously, his wrist flicking the yellow instrument as the sun shined off the reflective metal.

 

Marco looked at his cymbal curiously, “What are you doing Jean?”

 

Everyone turned to look at Jean and he froze. “Er- what?” Jean stammered.

 

Marco smiled again at him, “That thing you were doing with your wrist. You were spinning the cymbals. What was that?”

 

Jean twirled his wrist a little, “Just something my uncle taught me.” He stilled his cymbal. Really, it was no big deal.

 

But Marco looked at him with those wide brown eyes, “Can you do it again?”

 

Jean hid his blush by looking at his hand that gripped the strap of the cymbal. He began flipping his wrist again. The cymbal spun incredibly quick and shined from the sun. He remembered all the time spent with his uncle, who taught him how to work confidently with all the instruments considered to be in the drumline, and he spun it around his body. He passed the spin behind his back to his other hand and began spinning it just as fast. Jean passed the spin back and forth between the two cymbals. He then began spinning them around his body fluidly, over his head and behind his back and between his legs. The spin continuously passing and occasionally the cymbals clapping to a rhythm.

 

Jean stopped and looked up from his cymbals. Eren’s and Armin’s eyes were wide with amazement, Mikasa stared a little curiously. Sasha and Connie shot Jean a wink, already knowing his skills with his drumsticks. Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie stood still, staring at him silently. Marco was smiling widely at Jean which made him blush. “We have to show that to Phixis,” Marco told him.

 

A whistle sounded and the band quickly lined up to march back to the band hall. “Why are we showing that to Phixs?” Jean whispered to Marco, holding his cymbals together in front of him.

 

Marco continued tapping the beat and shook his head. Jean sighed. Why were they even heading back to the band hall now? Jean smiled suddenly, maybe they were ending early because it’s the last day. That would be awesome, and they _did_ successfully play and march the first part.

 

The band marched into the band hall, falling at ease as soon as they passed through the door. Jean walked to the back of the assembled chairs with the rest of the drumline, joining the pit. Marco placed a hand on Jean’s shoulder, stopping him. “We have to show Phixis before we start,” he said excitedly.

 

Marco grabbed Jean’s wrist, leading him through a cloud of low brass. “What are we showing him? And before what starts?”

 

Marco winked at him, “Just come on. Hurry!”

 

Jean felt his stomach turn nervously, and Marco’s hand was not making him feel any better. Why had he shown off? Jean set his lips in a tight line. Well, he might as well just go with it.

 

Marco stood in front of Phixis, Erwin, and Levi, who were all discussing something. Jean’s nerves assaulted his stomach. Not only the band director, but Marco also needed the two drum majors to show them whatever he wanted.

 

Phixis turned around, “Ah, Marco! Just the man I wanted to see. We have to start now if we plan on finishing on time.”

 

Marco sighed, releasing Jean’s wrist. “Alright, but can I show you something after?”

 

Phixis glanced curiously at Jean, who had begun spinning his cymbal again out of nerves. “Of course.”

 

Erwin called for the band’s attention, “Hey band!”

 

“Say what?”

 

Erwin smiled slightly at his bandmates, Levi stood beside him, as expressionless as ever. “We need to discuss a few things with everyone before classed begin on Monday. First, the matter of food on game days…”

 

Jean began to tune him out, unintentionally of course, spinning his left hand experimentally. He honestly wished he had his drumsticks, the ones his mother had made for him. He could spin those so much faster, and toss them up. He couldn’t really toss up a cymbal. Knowing Jean, he’d probably drop it and end up denting his instrument.

 

Of course, the cymbal was a bit easier to spin with his wrist flicks, easier than a drumstick anyways. That was because of the strap, but that only allowed him to do those passing moves he had done earlier. It looked much cooler with drumsticks and on a snare drum.

 

Jean frowned, flicking his wrist a little harder which spun the cymbal faster. If his useless fellow freshman knew how to do this, they could create a lot of really eye-appeasing tricks for the show. And it would fit in with the whole “magic” theme the band was putting on.

 

“Now, flutes first, down the hall to the right. If you could lead them there Petra?”

 

Jean looked up at Marco. What did he miss now?

 

Marco had a grimace on his face, one Jean did not think belonged on his freckled features. “What’s up Marco?”

 

Marco sighed, “I have to help everyone with the uniforms now.” He turned and shot Jean a small smile, “Sometimes it sucks being quartermaster.”

 

Jean felt giddy. He smiled in return, like an actual smile that only seemed to appear on his face around Marco, “Well, if you ever need help, you know, with quartermastering, I could jump in.”

 

Jean swore he saw Marco’s eyes light up. Jean could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Would you mind helping me now?” Marco asked him, eyes pleading.

 

How could Jean say no to those brown eyes? He simply nodded and Marco pulled Jean (by the hand!) to the back where a small room was located.

 

Well, Jean thinks its small, but that’s because it’s filled to the brim with the band’s blue and green and white uniforms jackets and black pants and white plumes and black hats and white gloves and hat boxes. Of course, all of these things were either hanging or stacked neatly, but it was still very cluttered in the room. With a band well over a hundred, there were a lot of uniforms and hats and boxes everywhere.

 

It was no wonder why Marco wanted help.

 

Marco pulled Jean into the small room, gently pushing him towards the hats and boxes. “Could you please place one plume and one appropriate hat and pair of gloves in each box and hand them out to each person that comes in?”

 

Jean nodded numbly, unable to speak when facing Marco’s joyful expression.

 

Sighing happily, Marco shot Jean a smile. “Thanks, Jean. I owe you one.”

 

And the two got to work. Marco measured each band member quickly and grabbed the appropriate jacket and pants for each member, handing out a ring of cords to each section leader. He occasionally told someone that something had to be hemmed next week or a friendly reminder for game days. Jean grinned slightly as he passed out the boxes as Marco had asked, luckily he only had to work with a small, medium or large size scale.

 

Jean didn’t get much of a chance to think because they were passing out uniforms so fast. Before he knew it, a few hours had past and all that was left was Jean and Marco to get their own uniforms and fitted for their marching shoes.

 

Marco smiled and beckoned Jean forward, “Thanks for the help Jean.”

 

Marco gently began to wrap a tape measure around Jean’s waist. Jean’s face grew warm as Marco’s fingers ghosted over an exposed patch of skin. Marco then measured from Jean’s waist to his ankle, his shoulder to wrist, shoulder to shoulder, and shoulder to waist. Marco chanted the numbers and found the appropriate jacket and pants. He handed them to Jean and then threw a pair of gloves in a hat and placed a hat on his head. “There. You can try them on later,” Marco smiled, “Just remember to wear a green t-shirt, basketball shorts, and long black socks under your uniform.”

 

Jean nodded, smiling shyly. He took off the hat and tried on the jacket though, it fit like a glove. Perfect.

 

Jean shrugged off the jacket and cleared his throat, “Do I need to measure you?”

 

Marco nodded, “If you could?”

 

Jean took the tape measure and began measuring Marco, telling him the numbers he saw. Jean also had to admit that he took advantage of the situation and brushed his fingers along Marco’s body while dragging the tape measure across.

 

When Jean had finished measuring the distance from his shoulder to waist, Marco turned away from him, busying himself with finding a jacket and a pair of pants. “Erm…” Marco started. He cleared his throat and turned around, looking over at Jean. “Just so you know, your pants face this way.” He showed Jean the proper way to wear his pants.

 

Jean smiled, wishing to ease some of the tension, “Why do upperclassman prank us about our pants being backwards?”

 

Marco laughed. Again, it was a tinkling sound, washing over Jean. “It’s because it looks funny to see freshman helping each other put them on backwards. And it definitely rides up your front in a hilariously uncomfortable way.”

 

Jean laughed and tossed Marco a box. “Here,” Jean muttered. “I think those gloves and hat in your box will fit.”

 

Marco smiled, “Thanks.”

 

Marco walked towards the door and looked over his shoulder, “Come on. I have to show you how to hang your uniform, we have to try on shoes _and_ we still have to talk to Phixis.”

 

Jean nodded, “Oh, right. Phixis.”

 

Marco giggled. “Come on Jean. We have to hurry or we won’t have much time to get ready for the party.”

 

Jean’s heart jumped at the thought of his first high school party. He didn’t expect much when he had first heard it because it was only the band going to it. But after seeing the way some of these sections, especially the low brass and saxophones, acted, he was extremely curious to see how crazy the party will actually be.

 

Not to mention Marco would be going…

 

Jean followed Marco out of the uniform room to try on shoes.

 

 

By the time Connie, Sasha and Jean got to the party, it was in full swing. There were dark lights blinking in the house and the base from the songs could be heard outside.

 

“Wow!” Connie whispered. “Is that really a band party?”

 

Sasha did her weird food-crazed laugh, “I wonder how the spread is.” And she launched herself out of the car.

 

“Sasha!” Connie yelled after her. He ran after her and Jean chuckled. He straightened his dark jeans and shirt. Hopefully he doesn’t look too much like a dweeb. He really wanted to impress Marco.

 

He walked up to the door, waiting with Connie and Sasha for someone to open the door that was locked to keep it exclusive.

 

He should have known luck wouldn’t be on his side. Marco answered the door, and he looked completely wasted.

 

“Ah, Jean!” he slurred, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s my favorite person ever!”

 

Jean smiled slightly and Marco grabbed his shirt, pulling him inside. “Lets dance!”

 

Jean was pulled by a surprisingly strong, and drunk, Marco to a tight space where practically the whole band was dancing. Marco gripped Jean’s hands and pulled him close, Jean’s chest was almost against Marco’s own chest. The freckled boy smiled, laughing, and swinging around crazily with Jean.

 

Jean sucked in air in surprise. Marco continued dancing with Jean, even though the latter still hadn’t moved. A sudden onslaught of nerves and excitement hit Jean. Is this really happening?

 

“Come on Jean,” Marco whispered and then giggled. Jean couldn’t help the shiver he felt travel down his back. “Just let go.”

 

Jean took in a shaky breath and simply nodded. He began shaking with Marco. And soon enough, he began to relax and really danced with Marco. Jean stayed with Marco the entire night, rarely drinking, and rarely leaving the tight space of dancers.

 

Although Jean was never much for dancing, that’s what he did. He had never sweated so much, not even during their band camp in the heat, but he had also never had so much fun. Not only was Marco attached to his side, but his other friends, Connie and Sasha, and his new friends, Armin and Reiner and Mikasa and Bertholdt and everyone really, were there with him.

 

They celebrated the completion of another successful band camp. They celebrated the success at the perfect play of their first part. They celebrated the start of new year.

 

Before he knew it, he was driving an extremely drunk Marco to his house, in the dead of night. He was thankful Marco wasn’t a particular loud or crazy drunk. They may be able to slip in without his parents waking up. But the only complication was Marco would _not_ let go of Jean’s hand. He had to climb over the armrest of Marco’s car to get in and out of the car as well as try to hold Marco up with his other arm.

 

But he couldn’t help but notice that his fingers laced with Marco’s seemed to be a perfect fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this au a lot. I hope you do too!
> 
> My tumblr (aramirez24.tumblr.com) has when I'll update. Or the tag HPOwlLover24 (I track it too). I'll update soon!
> 
> Happy reading!


	4. Friday Night Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's first football game is finally here! The excitement and shenanigans are just as he thought they would be.

“You have to hold the strap tightly or the cymbal will always go flying,” Jean growled. He didn’t understand why Eren couldn’t understand that one thing that he kept telling him repeatedly. Seriously, he told him that about fifty times.

 

Eren glared at Jean after picking up his cymbal, “No, shit Sherlock. I got that the first twenty times you said that!”

 

Jean returned the glare steadily. “Then do it!”

 

“How’s it coming over here?”

 

Jean jumped as he felt Marco’s hand on his shoulder. _Damn it._ It shouldn’t have startled him like it did, but Marco always made Jean nervous as it was. And the day before their first game, his nerves were on edge to impress the freckled section leader. Not to mention how close they were at the party…

 

“Er…it’s, well, it’s um…”

 

Eren snickered at Jean’s nervous stuttering. But Marco, bless his freckled soul, just smiled sweetly at Jean.

 

Jean took a deep breath and raised his hand, “His grip on they cymbal strap is too loose. He has to hold the strap like this,” Jean showed his grip on his cymbal, “but he isn’t doing it.”

 

“It’s not my fault. My hand cramps up,” Eren muttered.

 

Jean shot him another glare. “Then practice! What have you been doing since I first tried teaching you?”

 

Marco giggled and Jean blinked his glare away. “It’s alright, Jean. We don’t expect Eren to be able to perform the same tricks as you until competition. You have plenty of time to teach him.” Marco then turned to look at Eren, giving him his sweet-but-stern look, “But, you have to practice what he tells you. I know I said we have time, but it’ll pass in the blink of an eye.”

 

Eren opened his mouth to retort, but, with another look from Marco, he closed his mouth and adjusted his grip on his cymbal.

 

Marco smiled, “Now, Reiner has something for you Eren, so you should go over and see him.”

 

Jean noticed for the first time, after finally tearing his gaze away from Marco’s freckled smiling face, that he was holding a gift bag in his hand. When Eren left, he pointed at the bag, “What’s in there?”

 

For what seemed like the first time Jean has ever seen, Marco blushed, the red hiding most of his freckles, and he smiled shyly. “Well, it’s tradition for an upperclassman to give a new freshman a goodie bag before the first game. So Reiner and I got you and Eren your bags.” Marco handed Jean the slightly bulging bag.

 

“But, I thought- I mean,” Jean groaned internally. Why couldn’t he form coherent sentences? “What about trading with the entire section?”

 

Marco nodded, “Oh yeah, we do that too. We draw names out of the section leader’s hat, sort of like a secret Santa. But that doesn’t start until next week. The drawing is on Tuesday so we have the entire week to get the goodies.”

 

Jean nodded and looked at the bag. He was actually nervous to find what was in the bag, but it finally made sense why Marco had been bugging him about his favorites at practice and between classes. He looked up at Marco and smiled, “Thanks man.”

 

Marco turned slightly red again, “Yeah, no problem Jean.”

 

The rest of rehearsal was a mass band practice to go over certain pieces of stand music and one last run through of the first part of the show.

 

When Jean finally got home that night, the first thing he did was examine the bag and it’s contents.

 

It was a medium sized bag that was tie dyed blue and green. There were several expressions written all over the bag in what Jean assumed was Marco’s scrawl; things like “drumline” or “Wings of Freedom!” or “Go Eagles!” and across the top on one side of the bag was his name in a perfect cursive with _Freedom High Freshman_ written underneath.

 

Jean smiled and read every single thing that was written on the bag before digging in. At the very top, all his favorite candy and junk food were there, _literally._ Jean couldn’t understand how Marco could get all of this in such a short time period.

 

Jean laid all of it across his bed before he finally reached the bottom. There, folded neatly, was a note and a green shirt. Jean picked up the note and flipped it over. His name was written across the front and in the bottom left corner, the paper was tucked in with a small piece sticking out. Next to that small piece was the word _pull,_ so Jean grabbed it between two fingers and pulled.

 

He unfolded the note and began to read:

 

_Jean,_

_I hope you’re first week was a great one! I know high school can be a difficult place, but don’t worry! And don’t fret! You’ll find out that’s its super easy and can be a lot of fun!_

_Tomorrow is going to be crazy! You’ll love the pep rally and all day you will feel the spirit from the school. Just make sure you get plenty of rest tonight for the game. You probably don’t think so now, but the day will make you pretty tired. You have to make sure you’ll be alright for the game. Besides, its an away game, and trust me when I say: this bus ride will take a lot out of you._

_Anyways, you’ve probably seen the shirt already. At the pep rallies, the band can wear any green shirt that they want, and I didn’t know if you had one, so I made you and I shirts! I hope you like it. And, of course, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to._

_Yeah, so I’ll see you at the band hall!_

_Always your friend,_

_Marco_

 

“He made me a fucking shirt,” Jean whispered. Butterflies crashed around in his stomach as he pulled out the shirt. The front read _Freedom High Drumline_ in black rounded letters with blue stripes. On one side of the word “High” was a snare drum with the initials MB, and on the other side was a couple of cymbals with his initials JK. Surrounding the words and instruments were little black music notes.

 

_Holy shit!_ Jean turned it over to see his last name, Kirschtein, in blue lettering across the top with a big seventeen underneath it. _He spelled my name right!_ Jean learned long ago that it wasn’t worth teaching people to spell his last name. He could barely get people to _say_ his first name right.

 

Jean had no idea what to think except that his friend was the most adorable freckled angel he’d ever met.

 

* * *

 

 

The band hall was alive with sound as Jean walked up to the double doors. He nervously fixed his green shirt Marco had made him and walked through the doors.

 

The entire band was there, and the band hall looked a mess. He could see Levi standing beside Erwin with a slight sneer on his face.

 

“Jean!”

 

Jean’s breath caught and his heart beat wildly in his chest as Marco came running up to him. His shirt looked exactly like his own. “I’m so glad you wore the shirt!”

 

Jean smiled nervously up at Marco, “Y-yeah, well, it’s not like I couldn’t.”

 

Marco hugged him and then grabbed his hand, “Come on, the drumline is over here. We gotta lead the band in!”

 

Jean tried really hard not to hyperventilate and hoped to all things holy that his hands weren’t as sweaty as he thought they were.

 

When the band finally marched into the gym, they were met with yells and cheers. The entire school seemed to be in that small smelly building. Jean whistled lowly. The entire building seemed to have upchucked green and blue. Everywhere he looked, he saw eagles or wings.

 

The gym was basically divided into seven sections for a pep rally. The first four were on two of the walls and given to the school, senior and juniors and sophomores and freshmen. The fifth section is along the third wall where the band and color guard sat together. The sixth section took the fourth wall and half the court; there sat the football team, the volleyball team, and the cross country team. Later the cheerleaders and dance teams would sit around them when not busy in the last section. The seventh and final section was the other half of the court. This is where all the dances or games or pep talks were done.

 

As the band traveled to the fifth section, the cheerleaders and dance teams danced to the cadences in the seventh. The teams then traveled in as the band, excluding the drumline, began dancing with the others in the seventh.

 

Jean laughed out loud, still clapping his cymbals together, as he saw Connie and Sasha doing some ridiculous jig between two sour looking cheerleaders.

 

Finally, when all the teams were in and the bleachers filled, the drumline quieted and the band returned to their section sitting on the floor. Jean found himself squished tightly between Connie, with Sasha on Connie’s other side, and Marco. Not that he would complain about sitting so close to his freckled crush, he still shot Connie a glare when the trumpet player winked at him.

 

As this year’s MCs began getting the school pumped (who would have guessed Hanji loved being an MC?), Jean relaxed and cheered with the rest of the school, getting into the spirit of football season.

 

Halfway through the pep rally, the band having already played their piece, Marco nudged Jean, “How are you enjoying you’re first rally, Jean?”

 

Jean grinned as the cross country captains walked forward and wished the others luck for the night. “I’m loving it. Also,” Jean looked at the captains then back at Marco, rubbing the back of his neck, “Thanks for the bag. That note kinda made my week suck a lot less. And the shirt.”

 

Marco smiled widely, an adorable dimple appearing beneath the freckles on his right cheek, and Jean caught himself smiling too.

 

The rest of the pep rally was over quickly, finishing off with a rather ridiculous game of musical chairs with some of the football and cross country players. The band traveled back to the band hall quickly, sitting or standing by their instrument lockers and discussing the road trip today.

 

Jean, of course, was waiting with his section. Eren elbowed him and asked, “What’s all the talk about this trip to the game?”

 

Jean shrugged. “No clue.”

 

They turned when they heard a low laugh behind them. The three bass drum players stood there, Reiner having chuckled at them.

 

Annie rolled her eyes, “Freshman.” Bertholdt gave them an apologizing smile.

 

“This trip is big because it’s a three hour drive to Sina High,” Reiner explained. A wicked smile crossed his face, “And the games that happen on the way there are always fun.”

 

“Hey, Reiner, come on. Don’t scare them,” Bertholdt told him.

 

Marco walked up to them at the point, shaking his head with a smile on his face. He obviously heard the end of the conversation. He stood beside Bertholdt and looked at Eren and Jean, both of them wearing nervous expressions. “Don’t worry about it guys, they aren’t as bad as he’s making them sound. But you are expected to participate,” Marco winked.

 

“Hey band!”

 

“Say what!”

 

Everyone turned to the front of the room where Phixis, Erwin, and Levi stood and went quiet.

 

“Today we are traveling to Sina High,” Phixis stated. Excited whispers were heard throughout the band hall, but stopped as soon as they started. “You will be leaving during lunch and are expected to be on the bus and ready no later when than the end of that period. We will have pizza and drinks ready for you on the bus.”

 

“Just don’t get the uniforms filthy,” Levi growled.

 

Erwin grinned, “Have a fun half day band!”

 

Marco handed Jean his backpack and began walking with him out of the band hall to their second class. “So, Jean,” Marco began.

 

Jean looked over at Marco to see him red for the second time this week. Jean quirked an eyebrow at Marco’s expression, “Yeah?”

 

“Do you wanna ride with me on the bus?”

 

Jean’s mouth broke into a half smile, and he nodded at Marco, “For sure, man.”

 

Marco grinned in return, gripping his backpack on the one shoulder it hung from, “Great! I’ll see you at lunch then!”

 

Jean watched him walk off and realized suddenly, and he had no idea why he _didn’t_ realize it sooner, that the back of Marco’s shirt read _Bodt_ and had a large sixteen underneath.

 

Jean shook his head preparing himself for geography, geometry and biology.

 

* * *

 

“Okay freshman, the point of this game is to test your lungs. You brass and woodwind players are luckier than us percussionists, but it’ll still be a fun game,” Reiner winked at Marco behind Jean.

 

Jean looked at Connie and Sasha in front of him, “Why are we doing this?”

 

Sasha reached back and punched Jean in the arm, and then hit her head as the bus hit a large pothole in the road. “Don’t be such a party pooper Jean. It’s just suck and blow.”

 

Connie and Marco burst into hysterics as Jean felt his cheeks heat up, “Watch it woman! I have to use that later.”

 

“So the people that have the window seat, have fun passing it over the seat on your turn!”

 

And the game began with an old piece of stand music that a quad player didn’t need. People whistled and giggled when the paper fell or ruffled at the worst possible moment. And, when the paper was two seats away, Jean realized with a jolt that he had to get it from Marco to pass it to Sasha.

 

_Oh, shit! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!_ Jean glanced over at Marco as he laughed along with the rest of the band, waiting for Armin to get it from Eren.

 

Marco sucked in his breath, the paper between him and Armin, as Armin blew out, passing it over the seat quickly.

 

Jean didn’t get a chance to move or react as Marco grabbed his shoulders to pass the paper off quickly. Reiner wasn’t kidding when he said the percussionists are going to have a difficult time.

 

Jean sucked as Marco blew, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Marco’s lips were _literally_ a paper’s width away from his, and then passed it on to Sasha.

 

Jean caught his breath as Sasha began passing it to Connie, perfectly at ease as he was lightheaded.

 

“Fucking wind players,” Jean gasped.

 

Marco laughed breathlessly, “No kidding!”

 

There were several more close contacts that were ridiculously made fun of before the paper finally made it back to the start at the back of the bus.

 

“Again!” some flute player called from the front.

 

“You’re crazy!” some pit player yelled from the middle.

 

But others muttered and called their agreement for another game before the game started again. “Is this all we do on bus rides?” Jean asked Marco nervously.

 

Marco grinned mischievously at Jean, “Nope, sometimes we play _Dare_ or _Never Have I Ever_.”

 

Jean shook his head and waited for the paper again. This time the paper was traveling in a slightly different direction and he would have to get it from Eren.

 

Jean turned, sucking desperately, and found Marco’s face centimeters from him. He almost let the small piece of stand music fall from his lips.

 

It did slip though, and, for a brief second, Jean felt Marco’s upper lip against his own.

 

Marco quickly adjusted himself and got the paper from Jean to pass to Connie.

 

The two of them caught their breath, not really looking at each other, but trying to discreetly look out of the corners of their eyes.

 

When the paper made it back around, they all played a somewhat PG-13 game of Never Have I Ever.

 

* * *

 

Half-time came and went and the rest of the game passed by quickly compared to the first half. The entire band was ecstatic after getting an amazing introduction (“AND NOW FOR THE WINGS OF FREEDOM: THE MIGHTY EAGLE BAND!”) and performing their show perfectly.

 

The bus ride back was dead silent. Half of the reason was because the band was dead tired. The other half was because some people were actually asleep.

 

Jean put his head back against the seat, smirking at the ceiling.

 

“What are you so proud of?” Marco whispered.

 

Jean turned his head to look at Marco, his upper lip tingling slightly and his ears heating up with slight embarrassment. “We just did great. Proud of the band,” Jean whispered gruffly.

 

Marco giggled quietly behind his hand and Jean tried not to stare at the adorable gesture. “Go to sleep Jean. We have a long trip home,” Marco smiled softly.

 

Jean nodded and closed his eyes, settling back into the seat.

 

When he woke up half way through the drive, he found Marco’s head on his shoulder and the freckled section leader was snoring softly.

 

Jean didn’t move for a second, before thinking _to hell with it_ , and rested his head on Marco’s, falling back into a dreamless nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! I really tried to capture game day excitement as much as possible, but it’s harder than it seems. I do miss all the excitement though. The rallies, the goodie bags, the bus rides…ah, nostalgia.
> 
> Anyways, I write this from what I did in band (just to remind you!) and let me tell you: suck and blow was by far the most popular game (as a flutist I don’t really mind it). Never have I ever was a close second. And yes, there was one team we did play where we had to travel for three hours! Jeez, the bus ride there was fun but the ride back was horrible. Let me know your most relatable band moment to this chapter! I really LOVE reading all your comments about relating to band! I miss it so much, but this fic brings back so many memories!!!
> 
> So I hope you enjoyed this update! I’m so happy I got it up quicker than the last one. I have a tumblr (aramirez24) and you can chat me up there or check for my updates (or the tag HPOwlLover24, I track it and that’s also where the updates show). 
> 
> Have a lovely day and until next time: Happy Reading! \^.^/


	5. Trying to Find a Balance

“That’s it! I give up! One hundred per-fucking-cent done!”

 

The table of freshman erupted in giggles, everyone looking up from their homework to see him glaring at the geometry papers in front of him.

 

“Shh…” Armin whispered to Eren, looking around at everyone else apologetically.

 

Jean scoffed and rolled his eyes. Although he agreed with Eren (one hundred per-fucking-cent), he wasn’t going to say it. God knows that asshole didn’t need anymore people on his side beside Armin and Mikasa.

 

Not that Jean had a real problem with him, they were section-mates after all.

 

He’s just- he’s over-eager. _And_ he could be an annoying prick sometimes. Otherwise, the two got along really well. They had very similar attitudes on just about everything.

 

Jean huffed at his train of thought and returned to his homework. Anyways, the freshman of band, or some of them, decided to get together and make a mass study group since most of them all had the exact same classes. Save for art or athletics obviously, the other electives everyone else had to do varied.

 

As of now, Jean, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, and Krista were all studying geometry together. Well, okay, to be completely honest, Mikasa and Armin were tutoring everyone else. And really, it was only Jean and Krista doing their work. Eren, as his outburst suggests (Jean rolled his eyes again) was playing with his pen (seriously, who uses a fucking pen for math?) while watching Armin help Krista. And Sasha and Connie were more worried about eating what was spread out than completing their math work.

 

Anyways, geometry was one of the classes they had together. How Connie, Sasha, and Eren managed to get into an advanced class, Jean will never know. But he’s gotta admit, he’s grateful because Armin, who is friends with Eren and Jean just met him this year, is definitely the smartest in their class.

 

All these postulates and theorems were beginning to blur with each other.

 

Jean sighed, allowing himself a small mental break by letting his mind wander. It’s been about a month and band, classes, marching, sectionals, and exams have been taking all of his time. He’s had next to no time to breathe.

 

Not to say Jean hasn’t had some fun. The beginning of his freshman year was rough, but his friends made his classes fun. And band was awesome. The football games were also amazing to go to, or really, Friday’s in general were great.

 

Jean made a face at his geometry notes. And of course there’s Marco. He’s always looking to lend out a helping hand and will go out of his ways to help someone else. Always the kind hearted person.

 

But it confused Jean all the damn time. He thought Marco was being sweet to him because he _liked_ him. Sorta like how Jean liked him.

 

Whenever he found himself thinking that, Jean always reminded himself that Marco came from a very religious family (he found that out the couple of times he went over to the Bodt house; his family was amazingly sweet, but they were still very strict in keeping their beliefs), so there was no way he could be gay, much less like Jean in _that_ way.

 

And Marco thought of him as his best friend.

 

“Jean? What did you get for number three?”

 

Jean rolled his eyes as he was torn from his thoughts and turned to look at Connie. “Man, are you seriously still only on number three? We’ve been working on this for, what, forty-five minutes?”

 

Sasha giggled and Connie’s face turned a light shade of red. “Just tell me what you got!”

 

Jean smirked, “Biconditional.”

 

Connie nodded, writing down what Jean said, “Yeah, I got that, too.”

 

Sasha giggled again and Jean grinned, “Sure.”

 

Armin’s living room was silent again as everyone continued working on their homework, Jean returned to his as well. All of them except Armin and Mikasa, as they was checking everyone’s work.

 

About thirty minutes later, a much needed distraction presented itself.

 

“So are you guys going to the homecoming dance?” Eren asked, setting down his pen and stretching.

 

Sasha nodded through a mouthful of chips, “Yeah! Connie and I are going to check out the spread!”

 

Jean glanced at Eren, who threw him a smirk. Jean elbowed Connie, “I’m sure that’s all Connie is going to check out.”

 

Sasha choked on her chips and Connie turned a bright red and began spluttering. Everyone laughed.

 

“What about you Krista?” Sasha asked quickly, changing the attention away from her and Connie.

 

“Ymir asked me to go with her,” Krista smiled.

 

There were a few whistles. “The sophomore baritone player?” Connie asked.

 

Krista nodded, a bright blush brushing her cheeks.

 

“But she’s a total bi- hey!” Connie rubbed his head trying to avoid another smack from Sasha.

 

“Speaking of freshman and sophomores,” Eren began.

 

Jean looked at him. _Don’t you fucking-_

 

“Are you going to ask Marco anytime soon, Jean?”

 

_Fucking Eren._ This is what Jean meant when he said he was an annoying prick sometimes.

 

Jean glared at Eren, but really who’s fault was it? He knew he had been shamelessly flirting with Marco. And sometimes Marco _seemed_ to flirt back. They always wore their matching shirts and sometimes Marco actually stayed over at Jean’s often. Those times were his favorite.

 

But yeah, Jean didn’t understand if Marco liked him or if Marco was just a sweet guy in general. He was pretty sure that Marco wasn’t into dudes (see: family beliefs), but then he would think about the party that seemed to be so long ago and the hangouts they had at least once a week and those brief times when Marco grabbed Jean’s hand...

 

Jean mentally shrugged. Still, Jean had the most ridiculous crush on his freckled section leader. And yes, a crush was all it was.

 

Ugh, he was thinking into this way too much.

 

“Hello, earth to horseface.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Jean looked up and realized everyone was staring at him, waiting for his answer. It was a little upsetting to have everyone staring at him, trying to get some of the juicy news. What was more upsetting was that Jean actually answered to horseface.

 

_God damn it Eren._

 

“Are you going to ask Marco to go with you to homecoming?” Eren repeated himself, rolling his eyes at Jean’s lack of ability to process his question the first time.

 

“No,” Jean said flatly.

 

Eren glanced at Armin, sharing a look with the blonde. “Well, you should.” Everyone else nodded their head or murmured their agreement.

 

“Why? I mean, he doesn’t even roll that way anyways,” Jean growled. He was seriously getting annoyed that Eren was pushing it, and that everyone was agreeing with the damn asshole.

 

Eren shook his head and muttered, “Told you.”

 

Jean raised an eyebrow, looking at Eren pointedly, before returning back to his work.

 

After a few more moments of silence and awkward shared glances, everyone returned to their homework. The only sounds heard were the sound of pencil on paper or a paper being turned.

 

Ten minutes passed before Jean couldn’t take the awkward silence anymore, especially because it was because of him. It was thick and he knew all of them were thinking about how unfortunate everything seemed to be for him or some shit like that.

 

He chewed off a piece of his eraser and, after making sure it was coated in his saliva, he quietly threw it at Eren.

 

Eren looked up and twitched away from the small, grossly wet, chunk of eraser. He looked up at Jean.

 

Jean, hiding his pencil from view, gave him a half innocent, half amused look and pointed at Connie.

 

Eren simply nodded, crumbled up a piece of his notes and chucked it at Connie, effectively hitting him in the eye.

 

“Ow, hey! What was that for?”

 

Not giving Eren a chance to respond, Connie threw a handful of chips at him.

 

In about two seconds, an all out fight started with the snack food Armin had brought them. Chips and candy flew everywhere.

 

Jean dove behind the couch, a jelly bean missing him by inches.

 

Shrieks of laughter and grunts as amo hit their targets were heard. Jean smirked, enjoying the chaos he started. He peeked over the couch and threw a handful of M&Ms at Eren, laughing loudly when Eren turned wildly and was struck with some candy corn in his forehead right after. He stumbled back and fell over a fallen chair.

 

The food fight went on for about twenty minutes, effectively covering the living room in the junk food and papers of homework and notes. Needless to say, when Armin’s parents got home, there was quite a mess for the freshman to clean.

 

* * *

 

 

Besides band, art was Jean’s favorite class. Even though it was an elective, it was a great outlet, something to help him relieve the tension and stress he was feeling.

 

It also helped that the reason of his tension and stress wasn’t here, only his friend.

 

Jean nodded at Bertholdt and sat beside him, waiting for their teacher to tell them what to do for the lesson. He felt himself relax at the smell of paint and clay scattered across the room. The low light easing the headache he had from all of his previous classes.

 

It’s a great thing that marching band counts as P.E. credit.

 

When their teacher finally told them what they would be working on (self- portraits), Jean settled at his desk with a mirror and started working.

 

He really did enjoy art, it was so easy to get lost in his work, and it was enough to take all of his concentration.

 

Halfway through the period, Jean felt a tap on his shoulder.

 

Jean looked up from his work and saw Bertholdt sitting beside him, or actually sitting closer to him than he was originally.

 

“Er- hi Bertholdt,” Jean started slowly. It wasn’t uncommon for Bertholdt to talk to Jean during art. In fact, there was a friendship blooming between the cymbal player and the bass drum player. Jean was pretty comfortable around Bertholdt and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

 

But it was weird for him to talk to Jean when they were working on a two-day project.

 

“Hey, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to ask you something,” he whispered.

 

Jean nodded, absently shading some of his hair on his portrait, “Okay, shoot.”

 

Bertholdt studied him intently before biting his lip in hesitation, a light sheen of sweat covering his face.

 

Jean sighed impatiently, “I gotta get back to work, Bertholdt. What is it?”

 

“I was just wondering if you were going to ask Marco to homecoming?”

 

Damn, was he really that obvious?

 

Jean shrugged, “Dunno. He’s probably not even interested in me, so what would be the point? Besides, you know how his family is.”

 

He looked up in time to see Bertholdt roll his eyes. But before Jean could retort, their art teacher came around and commented on their portraits.

 

The rest of art was spent in silence and, although he was working on his portrait, Jean’s mind wandered.

 

So many people had asked Jean about Marco lately (okay, really only Eren and Bertholdt but all of Jean’s friends were curious when Eren asked so it counted, damn it) that he wondered if something was up. He knew that they all knew about his preference, Jean was always open with himself. But did they seriously not understand that it was supposed to go both ways?

 

Jean concentrated on his self-portrait for the rest of the period, he knew he would have barely anytime to work on it tonight. Today was Thursday, so there is an after school rehearsal. And with competition getting closer, Phixis was cracking down on the band. Okay, actually Erwin and Levi were cracking down on the band, but it stemmed from Phixis.

 

When the bell finally rang, Jean packed up and began the quiet, short walk to the band hall with Bertholdt beside him.

 

The band hall, like it always was the day before a game, was an absolute mess. The show music was playing from a speaker and some band mates were fingering along with the sounds, stands and chairs were scattered everywhere, cases and sheets of music were strewn across the floor.

 

Jean grinned to himself at the utter musical chaos that he’s grown fond of, and slightly wondered how Levi could stand being here on Thursdays. He was such a clean freak and it must be driving him absolutely crazy.

 

Of course, this fondness dissolved when Jean nearly died tripping over a mess of clarinet cases.

 

“God damn it!” Jean caught himself on a nearby chair, narrowly avoiding the ground and a near by stand. Bertholdt rushed forward, stepping around the cases, to help Jean up.

 

“Sorry Jean!” he heard Armin call.

 

Jean gratefully accepted Bertholdt’s sweaty hand, muttering curses under his breath. Something about clarinet players.

 

“Jean! Are you alright?”

 

Jean felt his face go red and looked up to see Marco rushing towards him, concern washing over his freckled features. Why did Marco always catch him at his most embarrassing times? For once, Jean wanted to be that cool dude that always seemed chilled so that freaking Freckled Jesus might actually swoon over his confidence. “’M fine,” Jean muttered, embarrassed.

 

Eren, from behind Marco, snorted, “Smooth moves, horseface.”

 

“Shut it, Eren,” Jean growled.

 

Marco smiled at Jean, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. Jean’s heart spluttered in his chest and he grinned sheepishly. “Come on, we have to get ready to lead the band out.”

 

Jean followed Marco, walking over to join the rest of the drumline. Reiner nodded at Jean in greeting and smirked, “Watch out for those clarinet cases man.”

 

Jean hummed, “No kidding. They’re deadly. Not exactly the way I’d want to go.”

 

Eren and Marco snorted. Reiner nodded his agreement, “I understand. A couple of trumpet cases almost did me in last year.”

 

The entire section laughed as they clipped on their drums. Jean grabbed his cymbals and grinned at Eren, his anger gone, “Are you ready to try the routine?”

 

Every Thursday, the band went through the show once before Phixis nit-picked pieces of it. Today, Jean and Eren would be performing their “cymbal illusions” (as Reiner liked to call it) while they marched. Jean worked on this for weeks with Marco, and they made it seem as magic-like as possible to match the theme of their show.

 

Eren nodded, his own determined grin on his face, “Definitely.”

 

“With competition next Saturday and no show during halftime tomorrow, I was wondering when you two would do it,” Marco started, smiling widely at them.

 

Jean returned the smile easily, “We have this weekend’s competition and next week to perfect it. No worries.”

 

Eren nodded, “Yeah. Don’t worry man, we’ll have it down by then.” He twirled his cymbal expertly, the exact way Jean had taught him, to prove his point.

 

The band lined up and marched to the practice field. Jean was confident that he and Eren would be fine during the practice. They had been working on their routine for a while now, at every sectionals and almost everyday after school, and it was near perfect. All they had to do was throw the marching into the mix.

 

And he was right. Phixis did fix a few spots with the drumline, but his main focus was the trumpet solo Hanji had to do in the first part and the flute and clarinet duet from Petra and Auruo in the second part.

 

By the time they had finished and Phixis was satisfied, it was growing dark and rehearsal was almost over.

 

“Remember everyone,” Erwin called out, issuing some last-minute instructions. “Tomorrow is homecoming. We will perform the show after the game for practice, but during half time we will be playing _Over the Rainbow._ So let your family know so they can enjoy the show.” The band was dismissed after that.

 

Jean groaned. That song was _so_ annoying and boring for a cymbal player to play. Not to mention, _the Wizard of Oz_ doesn’t exactly bring back happy memories for Jean. And, to top it all off, the band will only be standing there as they played; the focus was supposed to be on the Homecoming Court nominees after all.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Jean looked over to see Marco walking beside him, the usual dazzling smile on his face. That smile, man, it did weird things to Jean’s heart.

 

“Couldn’t we pick something that wouldn’t put me to sleep?” Jean asked, his frown disappearing and a smirk appearing in an instant.

 

Marco gigged, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth.

 

_Cute,_ Jean smiled at Marco. “So, uh…” _To hell with it._ “Marco, do you plan on going to the- er- to homecoming?”

 

Marco raised an eyebrow, “Well, we do have to play that bedtime melody. How could I miss that?”

 

Jean grinned, _cheeky bastard_ , and knocked his elbow against his section leader’s, “Not what I meant, Marco.”

 

Marco giggled again, “Alright, so what _did_ you mean Jean?”

 

Jean nervously ran a hand through the blonde part of his hair, tugging slightly at the ends. “I- well, I was just- ergh. Damn it.”

 

Marco smiled at Jean’s stuttering, “Yes?”

 

Jean sighed, _just spit it out_. “I was wondering if,” Jean coughed slightly, butterflies assaulting his stomach. “Er, well, are you going to the dance with anyone?”

 

Marco cocked his head to the side, “Well no one’s asked me. And I didn’t ask the person I wanted to go with.” Marco grinned sheepishly. “Pretty cowardly, huh?”

 

Jean nodded absently, a sinking feeling in his chest. So there was someone Marco wanted to go with. Jean should have known, Marco was too good for him.

 

They stopped walking just outside the band hall. Apparently one of the tuba players- ah, sousaphone, it _is_ marching season- tried walking straight through one door instead of opening both or turning sideways, and now he was stuck. Jean rolled his eyes, there are double doors for a reason.

 

Jean grunted, sass always came easy to him.

 

Jean glanced back at Marco before looking around. There was no one else near them. A few people were trying to help the tuba player (Thomas if Jean remembered correctly) and, the few others that hadn’t made it in, were watching the scene unfold with amusement.

 

“Would you like to go to the dance with me?” Marco whispered.

 

Jean looked at Marco incredulously, tearing his eyes away from the doors, “Me?” His heart hammered in his chest, and he hoped Marco couldn’t hear it.

 

Marco gave Jean a shy smile that made Jean’s thoughts go to mush. “Yeah, who else would I be asking?”

 

Jean didn’t answer, he was too shocked. Was Marco asking him to the dance? Really asking him? “I mean,” Marco started, his freckles disappeared as his cheeks burned, “It’d be horrible if we went to the dance alone. But what if we go together? As friends. We could chill or something…”

 

Jean stared at Marco for a second before recovering. His heart sank and he arranged his features so his disappointment didn’t show. Levi seemed to have stepped in to unstick the tuba, and he was not happy.

 

“I- uh, well. Y-yeah,” Jean stuttered, his face heating up slightly. “Thanks.”

 

Marco smiled widely, “That’s what best friends are for.”

 

By this time, which only seemed to be seconds, the tuba was unstuck and Levi was more than a little upset. That guy could do anything…except, well, probably reach the hat shelf in the uniform room.

 

Marco grinned at Jean, “Come on. Levi might skin us alive because we’re in his line of fire.”

 

Jean nodded his head in agreement and the pair quickly headed inside, narrowly avoiding Levi’s wrath. They quickly put up their instruments and gathered their things.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Jean muttered. He wasn’t in the best mood, he just got friend zoned, again.

 

Marco looked up from his snare and gave Jean a dazzling smile, “Definitely.”

 

Jean walked out of the band hall with a slight slump in his step. All this getting his hopes up and seeing them crash was not good for him. Jean shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder. _Stupid adorable Freckled Jesus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah! I have to admit, I think this is a horribly awkward chapter. One, because the two just don’t know how to stop being awkward themselves (high school sucks sometimes, no?) and two, I just kept rewriting parts so they could ease together while going through some family issues. But I hoped you liked it nonetheless!
> 
> So, work is starting to take a lot of time from me as well as university and my writings may be coming in a little slower. But anyways, I still want to ask a question: how would y’all feel about a sequel? This fic (obviously) is about marching season and still has maybe a handful (more or less, who knows?) of chapters left, but band still has concert season and, in my home city, parade! (Which is considered marching but at the end of concert season…) I’m seriously considering it, so if the idea is appealing let me know here or on tumblr (aramirez24 or the tag I track: HPOwlLover24)!!!
> 
> Thanks for reading loves! You guys are awesome! Happy reading!


	6. Helping the Quartermaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helping the Quartermaster after Homecoming is a lot harder than it looks.

If Jean thought the first game was chaotic, he was going to go crazy today. He didn’t want to think what would happen if the football team made it to playoffs. The amount of school spirit that was washing over him everyday this week had felt like tidal wave after tidal wave and Jean, though he had been enjoying it as much as everyone else, had barely been able to swim out alive.

The first thing he noticed when he was dropped off at the school was that the school was completely decked out in everything blue, green, and white. Seriously, there was confetti, streamers, balloons, posters, and stuffed Eagles everywhere. And that was only on the outside.

The band hall was a complete disaster. More posters had been hung, wishing them luck in their practice competition tomorrow. There were cases and hat boxes everywhere. Jean could see several pieces of _Over the Rainbow_ fluttering about on the ground and falling from lockers. Everyone was clustered in groups with mums or garters hanging off them with goodie bags at their feet.

Jean looked at his own garter that his mom had made him. It had a simple, small white flower surrounded by green and blue ribbon. Blue, white and green ribbons hung from it with different cheap charms that said _drumline_ or _homecoming_. A small eagle charm that read _freshman_ underneath it sat in the middle of the white flower.

Jean quickly traded bags with Reiner before spotting Marco and heading over to him, where he was kneeling at his locker. “Hey Marco,” he grinned.

Marco looked up, a wide smile on his freckled face and brown eyes shinning as he stood up. He pulled Jean in for a hug, causing Jean to blush slightly before he pulled away. “Ready for today?” he asked excitedly.

Jean gave a half shrug, trying to play if cool. “Halftime will suck, but everything else will be pretty fun, right? There’s also the dance to look forward to…”

Jean trailed off as he realized that Marco had two garters, one on his arm and one in his hand. He felt his heart sinking as he pointed to the garter in his hand, trying to keep the disappointment off his face, “Someone made you a homecoming garter?”

Marco’s face turned red and his eyes widened slightly as he turned it over in his hand. “A-actually.” He cleared his throat nervously, “It’s for you.”

Jean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his mouth nearly fell open as he blinked his eyes quickly. “Really?”

Marco nodded, still not quite looking up at Jean, “You can wear it if you want, but I see you already have one so-”

“Dude,” Jean interrupted him. He grinned at Marco, keeping his cool composure even if he was screaming inside. “I do have another arm. I would love to wear it.”

Not only did they have matching shirts that the freckled beauty made him, but Marco also made him a fucking garter. A garter! That’s huge!

Before Jean could reach forward to grab it, Marco grabbed his hand and slid it up his arm. He straightened the sleeve and slid his hand down Jean’s arm slowly, not taking his eyes off of Jean.

Jean was at a complete loss. He just stared at Marco’s hand and then turned his attention to the ground. He just hoped Marco hadn’t seen the goose bumps he had.

_Just tell him, there’s no way he doesn’t feel something._

Jean swallowed and looked up at Marco, who was still looking at him, a large smile on his face. _Do it!_

“I-”

“Hey band!”

“Say what?!”

Marco looked over at Jean’s shoulder before grinning at him again and dropping his hand, “Ready for your first Homecoming Pep Rally?”

Jean sighed quietly, trying to hide his disappointment. _Well, so much for that_. He shot Marco a smirk, “I’m sure I can handle it. Just another pep rally, right?” He decided to not focus on how giddy the other made him feel. If he did focus on the butterflies assaulting his stomach, he may vomit.

Marco strapped on his drum and grinned mischievously, “Freshman. You do realize that the pep rally is outside in the stadium?”

Jean quickly grabbed his cymbals and got in line, “What? Why? What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren bumped in beside him, but Jean paid him no attention as he was trying to get a response from Marco.

Marco winked, “You’ll see.” He turned and faced the drumline. “We’re leading out of course, but everyone wants a performance. Cadence eight with the dance, you guys. Let’s start this off right!”

Jean and Eren glanced at each other as the others cheered. Except Annie, who simply smiled.

Marco looked at jean, a sly grin crossing his freckled features. “You two ready?”

Eren shook his head and Jean shrugged. Reiner thumped them both on their back, “Of course they are.”

Marco nodded and turned around, leading the entire band out. Once they were close to the stadium, because Marco wasn’t kidding when he said it was in the football stadium, Jean could hear the monstrous roar coming from there. “Did everyone actually come?”

From in front of him, Reiner chuckled, “It is homecoming.”

“Ready?” Marco asked them at the entrance of the field, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes obviously shinning with excitement.

Jean could feel his heart thumping ridiculously fast in his chest. He just didn’t know if it was because of the size of the crowd, the fact that the entire student body seemed to be there and about to watch him perform, or the smiling, freckled section leader in front of him, giving him his widest, brightest excited smile.

“Charge!” Marco yelled.

The entire drumline rushed onto the field, banging on their drums and cymbals crashing wildly as they ran. The entire football field was clear except for the MCs and their equipment on the track in front of the home seats. The entire stadium seating was decked out in the school’s colors. The guy in the mascot suit, Jean had no idea who it was this week, was on the track, hyping the crowd up for the pep rally, but turned to look as the drumline ran in screaming.

The drumline set up for cadence number eight as the band circled them.

Cadence number eight was a very popular cadence within the school. It was the loudest, the oldest, and the most fun to perform. It also came with a dance that the drumline always learned for any opportunity they might have to perform it, like this one. It was always a favorite. Jean did love it, but they were doing it now? In front of everyone?

Jean ran into the center of the band circle, Eren tailing him, both of them crashing their cymbals as they moved. He ignored the anxious feelings in his stomach and decided to just move like he was supposed to.

The snares and quads lined up around them, tapping out the rhythm as all the base drums laid their drums down so there was small space between each one. The base drummers then began pounding on their drums like they were some sort of ancient warriors. The quad players sat their own drums on top of the base drums, pounding away at their quads as the base drummers beat along beside them. The snares walked over, stacking their drums on the quads, like they had done on the bass drums, and began playing their drums.

Jean and Eren parted, standing at each end of the drumline, clasping their cymbals together rhythmically while adding some spins every few seconds.

The band, crowded behind them, were dancing with each other or their instruments.

The drumline slid with each other and Jean found himself laughing in excitement with the others. His garters jingled and hit his arm lightly every time his arms moved. They ran around the tower of drums, climbing between the drums and crawling under them. There was even one point where the quads were flipped over and they laid in the grass to play. Or when the drums were stacked high and the snares climbed on the bases’ shoulders to play.

When they were coming to the end of their cadence, the MCs ran onto the field beside the band. “Give it up for the Wings of Freedom: the Mighty Eagle Drumline!”

Applause erupted around them as the band and student body began clapping at their performance. Jean grinned along with the rest of the drumline, smiling at Marco who was at the other end of the line, breathing heavily from the climbing and dancing he just did.

Man could that freckled guy move.

Jean traveled with the rest of the band to just behind the thirty-five yard line. They stood on the yard line, forming ranks, as they began to play the fight song.

The football, volleyball, cross country, and basketball teams, as they had finally entered pre season, ran onto the field, jumping and yelling and cheering as loud as everyone else was. They took their positions center field as the band began to fade out.

The MCs took this as their cue and away went Jean’s first homecoming pep rally.

* * *

 

If he thought that the school was colorful during the week, he was mistaken. The halls looked as if they threw up school colors, it was louder than it looked outside.

But the spirit was everywhere and it was evident that everyone was ready for tonight. There was a mix of feelings that went along with it. Jean could tell how each class felt about tonight.

All of the freshman were loud and buzzed with excitement and joy. First homecoming and their first high school dance were tonight. This defined the high school experience and man, was it loud.

The sophomores and juniors were excited, but they were nostalgic, remembering their first one and excited for future ones.

And then there were the seniors. They were excited, louder than the freshman and more nostalgic than the juniors and sophomores. But there was a sort of melancholic air about them, the realization that this was their last homecoming of their high school experiences.

Jean wasn’t one to dwell on how sad something was, he didn’t cry. He was too man for that. But, he did feel something at the thought of the seniors he had grown to know leaving. This was it for them, and he was lucky to feel a part of this.

But aside from all that feeling crap, Jean was pumped. He couldn’t wait for the game, despite the shit half time show they would have to do, and he really couldn’t wait for the dance. Even if Marco had a roundabout way of asking him to the dance, he _had_ asked him. The garter was proof!

Jean looked down at it, ignoring his math teacher lecturing on about more postulates. It was very simple, but cute in it’s own way. There was a white flower in the middle, surrounded by blue and green ribbon, like his other one. But in the center of the flower, was a small stuffed bear with a pair of cymbals in his hands. Ribbons hung from the flower and had his name, instrument and class stickered and written on there. One ribbon that made him blush every time he looked at it was a blue ribbon with silver hearts drawn on it over and over again.

Once the bell rang, Jean exited the classroom quickly and hurried to the band hall. Thankfully, it was only a half-day and he wouldn’t have to force himself to focus on any more of his classes.

Connie elbowed him as they walked down the packed hallway, “Freckles on your mind, man?”

Sasha giggled as she jumped on Jean’s back.

Jean tried to grab her, without falling forward and messing up the garter on his right arm. “Damn it Sash, at least warn me!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he took hold of her legs. His backpack was pushed against his back, probably pushing against her stomach also, uncomfortably, but there was nothing in there worth worrying about.

He heard a grunt beside him and realized that Eren, Armin and Mikasa had joined them. Eren had jumped on Connie’s back and was laughing at the way Connie was struggling to balance him.

“Go Jean!” Sasha yelled in his ear.

One look at the competitive spark in Eren’s eye was all it took. Jean took off, Sasha bobbing on his back, as Eren yelled for Connie to run, too.

Everyone in the still crowded hall, laughed and pointed at the freshman racing to the band hall, cheering them on even if they didn’t really know who they were.

In the end, Mikasa, who had Armin jump on her back, ended up winning the race, Jean coming in a distant second with Connie brining up the rear.

Sasha laughed, hopping off Jean’s back and walking over to an exhausted Connie, thumping him on the back. “Maybe you should get some longer legs. You may have won.”

Jean walked into the band hall, looking for an open seat to collapse into. If it was even possible, it was messier in the band hall. The booster club was all there, parents of band mates, gathering food and, what smelled like, prepared the barbeque pit outside.

Jean looked over at Sasha as she made an inhuman noise. The others laughed.

“Did you guys bring your clothes for the dance?” Eren asked, settling into the chair beside Jean. He leaned casually against Jean’s arm, who simply grunted at his actions.

Connie sat down in a chair across from him and Sasha sat between his legs, her head resting against his knee. “We do, we left them in the culinary arts room though. We’re going to change after the game in there.”

“Ours are in the labs,” Armin said. Mikasa sat down beside Eren and Armin sat in between her legs.

It was quiet for a few seconds. Jean looked at all his friends, all settled in a small circle, looking at the floor or playing with someone’s hair. It was weird, but Jean couldn’t help but feel very happy. Sure, his love life was pretty much nonexistent, though he was trying to fix it, but he had these really amazing friends that were making him feel better.

Jean grinned to himself. He couldn’t really explain why he was so happy all of a sudden, but it was a great feeling.

He felt a pressure at his knee and, realizing he zoned out, he looked down to see Marco sitting in between his legs, like Sasha and Armin were doing, leaning against his legs.

He could feel his face heating up and his heart was racing, but he couldn’t help how much happier he felt all of a sudden. This meant…

“Hey Marco,” Connie greeted, breaking the silence. Everyone tittered his or her own hello as Marco’s head lolled against Jean’s leg in greeting.

Should he play with his hair? That would be weird. They aren’t friends like Armin and Mikasa are. Even if his hair does look really soft, Jean wondered if it felt soft. His fingers were itching to do it as he stared at Marco’s hair. Was he being creepy?

He could feel something tickling his ankle and realized that Marco was playing with the leg of his jeans. Jean tried not to hyperventilate. Really, now he was just being a spaz.

Before Jean could even move, the boosters were calling for the band to grab some barbeque that was now ready.

Sasha jumped up, pulling Connie with her. Armin, chuckling, got up and walked after them, Mikasa and Eren following him. Jean and, to his delight, Marco didn’t move from their spot.

Jean grinned down at Marco, “Not hungry, Freckles?”

Marco shrugged, “I can wait, there are too many people in line right now. Too tired to move.” He leaned against Jean’s legs again, sighing against his knee.

“Are you alright?” Jean asked, frowning. He reached forward and tugged on a piece of his hair. _Holy shit, it is soft._

Marco nuzzled his face against Jean’s knee, “Mhm, I’m just a little tired. I’ll be fine.” Marco turned his head and gave him a sideways look, a small smile on his face, “You’re still up for helping me tonight after the game?”

Jean found himself nodding at him, his fingers still playing with the end of Marco’s hair.

Marco’s smile widened and he tugged on the leg of Jean’s jeans. “Let’s go get some barbeque. The line’s gone down and I want some before Sasha eats it all.”

* * *

Did he even breathe? Jean found himself at the homecoming game, and it was over before he knew it. He screamed himself hoarse. He played his heart out. He danced his ass off. He banged his cymbals perfectly during the half time show.

The band was gathering their things together for competition the next day and Jean was helping Marco in the uniform room. Everyone else was just piling their uniforms in the small room and leaving as soon as they could to get ready for the dance. Selfish bastards.

Marco sighed, hanging a few more uniforms in the appropriate place after inspecting them. He looked over at Jean, “Thanks for helping, you can still go if you want.”

“It’s alright man. I already told you I’d help. You can stop saying that now,” Jean grinned, tossing another plume in a hat box for the next day. He piled the box with the others and grabbed a few more, “How many more do you have to inspect?” Though he wouldn’t leave now, he still wanted to walk into the dance with the guy. Hopefully they’d get there before it was over.

Marco scratched his head, musing up his hair even more and making him look adorable. Jean bit back a grin, and a sigh, as he waited for Marco to answer.

“Just the trumpets and I should be done,” Marco replied.

Jean nodded his head before finishing the rest of the boxes. Maybe, in hindsight, he should have done a section’s hats near the section’s part of the uniform room, but Jean had a lot of things on his mind and didn’t really think it through.

He stacked the clarinet’s boxes on top of each other and picked them all up, attempting to make it in one trip. Jean peered around the boxes, in a very lame attempt to try to walk to the other side of the room.

“Jean! Wait-”

The boxes flew from his hands as he fell forward, tripping over Marco who had bent over to pick up a fallen pair of marching pants.

Jean leaned on his elbow and rubbed at his forehead in pain, not yet realizing he was draped over Marco’s stomach.

The freckled section leader groaned, rubbing his head as a hat box tumbled to the floor from above him. “I should have warned you,” Marco groaned, trying to sit up.

Jean grunted, “My fault.”

He looked over and realized Marco was actually a lot closer than he originally thought. The other guy’s eyes were still closed, scrunched up in pain as his hand roamed through his hair to see if he had any bumps. Jean could clearly see the curve of his lips and the wrinkles around his eyes from him always smiling. He could see all the freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks. He could see his long lashes and knew there were sparkling brown eyes under his closed lids.

Without thinking, without worrying about the repercussions of his actions or the fact that someone could be walking in at any moment to inspect the sound of the crash, Jean leaned forward and crashed his lips against Marco’s.

Jean expected Marco to push him away. He expected Marco to jump up and look at him as if he was crazy. He expected him to flee the room and never look at him again. But he didn’t get any of that.

Jean felt Marco’s finger scratching against the shorter hairs of his hairstyle. Jean squeaked slightly in surprise, which he will forever deny when Marco tells everyone of their first kiss, but relaxed when he felt Marco’s lips moving against his own.

Marco pulled away from him first, his fingers still in Jean’s hair.

Jean opened his eyes slowly, slightly afraid of what he’d see when he opened them.

Seriously, he was being stupid. Because there was Marco, smiling at him with those shinning brown eyes.

“Not exactly how I pictured my first kiss or our first kiss, but I can’t really find it in me to complain.”

Jean couldn’t say anything, he just stared open mouthed at him. _F-first kiss? He knew he was going to kiss me?_

Marco chuckled, leaning forward to place a kiss on the edge of Jean’s mouth softly. “We better move, before Phixis gets here to see what happened.”

As if the freckled guy couldn’t be even more perfect, he also had perfect timing. Phixis came in just as the pair finished picking up the fallen hat boxes, “Everything alright in here?”

Marco nodded, smiling at the band director, “Yes sir, we just knocked over the hat boxes in an attempt to get out quickly.”

Phixis nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Hmm, well, why don’t you two get going? I can check the remaining uniforms. Don’t want to miss the dance now, do we?” If Jean hadn’t known any better, he would have thought the band director knew something. But he didn’t argue.

As Phixis and Marco talked about the uniform situation, Jean headed to a nearby restroom to change and catch his breath.

He closed the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror. His amber eyes were bright and his hair was slightly messed up, probably from Marco running his hands through it. He also had a bruise above his eyebrow where he must have hit his head against a box.

Did Marco, Marco freckled butt Bodt, really kiss him?

Jean’s face broke out into the largest grin that could have split his face in half. He was so excited he jumped up and down, his arms flying above his head as he did some ridiculous dance move.

“It’ll be interesting to dance with you if that’s how you move.”

Jean froze, his face heating up as he turned around slowly.

Of fucking course Marco would be standing there, watching him embarrass himself until he found it appropriate to speak up. Which would be the time that was most embarrassing for Jean.

“I- uh…”

Marco chuckled, walking towards Jean as if he was a horse and could get spooked by a sudden movement. He tossed his clothes over the wall of a nearby stall. He backed Jean against the wall and Jean’s heart jumped in his throat. Freckles clouded Jean’s vision.

Marco’s hand reached up to trace Jean’s jawline and Jean could feel his knees knocking together. It was amazing how this guy could turn Jean into a puddle of mush.

Marco leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Jean’s, his hand cupping Jean’s cheek, “I really want to kiss you again, Jean.”

So this was really happening to him.

Jean took the initiative again, slower this time around, and leaned in. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his mouth against Marco’s, his hands coming off the bathroom wall to place them on the other’s hips. Marco made a small noise of happiness, his other hand coming up to fist into Jean’s shirt. Their lips moving softly as the two boys moved closer to each other.

They parted, breathing in slowly, as they tried to take in what was happening. Jean still couldn’t really believe it. He had hunches, feeling that his freckled section leader cared about him more than he had admitted. Jean was on cloud nine.

“We better get to the dance,” Jean whispered. He really didn’t want to leave. Hell, he’d stay there all night if he could. But it was time to come down from that cloud. “People might come looking for us.”

Marco groaned before pushing away from Jean. “You’re right.” Marco grabbed Jean’s hand before he could walk around him. Marco’s expression was one of uncertainty. He looked into those soft brown eyes that seemed to show a struggle beneath the surface. “I feel like such a prat for doing this so last minute, but better late than never, right? Will you go to the Homecoming dance with me?”

The smile broke across his face again and his cheeks started to hurt from the sudden strain. “Yes. Yes, that would be fucking brilliant.”

Marco grinned, his expression softening at Jean’s eloquent choice of words. “Great! So…um, I guess we should get dressed and head on over?”

Jean laughed, a smirk forming on his lips, “Sure thing Freckles.”

They dressed quickly, hurrying back into the band hall to dump their clothes before heading to the gym, where the dance was being held. It was dark and cheesy strobe lights were poking through the dark near the DJ’s stand. Balloons and streamers were everywhere, littering the floor and floating across tables. There were some banners still up and some new ones hung as the basketball scoreboard showed the final score of the homecoming game: Titans eighteen Eagles twenty.

There were several tables were set up on the edge of the gym and the bleachers were even pulled out for people to sit in. There were a lot of people dancing to the fast paced music that reminded Jean of the party he went to at the beginning of the school year.

He looked over at Marco, grinned and grabbed his hand before leading him to the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has been gone for so long! I did not intend it to be, but yeah, life got in the way a bit. I met a few new people, had some changes, but I've decided some things! First, this story is going to have four more chapters! Yay! Haha, but because it's about marching season, there isn't much to go about right? I have also decided that I am going to do a sequel, I just don't know when. But it will be about the second half of the year, because band is a whole year of fun after all.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed these two dorks finally getting together. I'm so glad it finally happened. Let's hope them the best, shall we? Thanks for sticking around! I hope you all had a great holiday and hope you the best for this year! If you want to hit me up, I have a tumblr for my writing (hpowllover24.tumblr.com) and I hope to see you soon!
> 
> Happy readings!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I have other stories to write, and I will definitely do that this weekend because after friday's classes I have soooo much time. It's also probably not good for me to be posting so many at once, but I'll manage. It's just a matter of time management. Besides, I just couldn't get this thought out of my head. I hope you enjoy it. There will be more to come!
> 
> Happy reading!!


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